But It’s A Perfectly Good Plane

Several years ago, I went skydiving.

One morning I woke up early and went to this rural airport.

And in the equivalent of a hanger which was basically just a barn, paid some dude a few hundred dollars for a day of lessons and one jump from an airplane.

I really didn’t have a good reason to jump from a plane … other than the idea of doing it excited me and it had been on my life to-do list for about 15 years by that point …

So I was going to take advantage of the opportunity I had to cross it off.

I spent that morning learning skydiving basics …

Jumping, falling, landing …

Controlling the chute.

Learning the chute.

Contingencies … contingencies … contingencies.

And 5 or so hours later …

There I was …

Crammed in this tiny little plane that barely looked airworthy thinking …

I’m damn glad I’ve got a parachute. 🙂

The plane kept rising.

I really should have told Mom, Dad or Bro I was doing this.

The plane kept rising.

At least Singer and Shaft know what I’m doing.

The plane kept rising.

It seemed to take forever.

But at that point I had removed myself from conscious participation in what was transpiring … things were in motion … and I was just along for the ride.

Finally the plane leveled out and the instructor yelled for me to crawl over near him and by the plane door.

Which I did.

I was doing an assisted jump. Meaning that I was going to have someone strapped to my back in case I screwed anything up. This approach allowed me to free fall … something I could not do with a static line jump (where your rip cord is attached to the plane in some way and your chute is automatically deployed shortly after jumping).

“Are you ready?“, he yelled over the plane’s engine.

Now I’m sure there was more than a subtle look of fear in my eyes, but without hesitation, I smile and answered …

“Sure, you bet.”

That’s code for “Yes, you bastard.”

He connected our cables, manuevered himself behind me and opened the plane’s door.

“Gasp”

Holy krap was it ever cold up there … freezing cold.

Mentally I registered how that made sense, and chastised myself for not expecting it.

I swung my legs out the plane door, grabbed this bar protruding from the wing and attaching to the fuselage,

Took a breath …

And stepped out of the plane onto a ledge attached to the plane’s right wheel.

The instructor moved in unison and had his legs hanging out of the plane as he sat in the plane’s doorwell.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’m just along for the ride,” he yelled.

I could barely hear him.

About a mile up in the air … standing outside a rickety plane … holding on for dear life … in the freezing temperatures … wind howling … there I was …

Having had preparation, but not feeling fully prepared.

Being anxious, but never once thinking of stepping back in the plane.

Not knowing what would happen, but not bothered by that.

So loud enough for probably only myself to hear …

I laughed and said … “What the phuck !”

And rolled out of the plane into the first of three sommersaults leading into me arching my back and freefalling.

Once again, it’s almost time for me to laugh and say … “What the phuck !”

And not because I’m going skydiving. 🙂